


Bolted and Barred

by lwielaura



Series: Everything wrong with Tony Stark [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Claustrophobia, Established Relationship, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve is a good boyfriend, Tony Feels, Tony is not ok, but he didn't mean to, clint fucks up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 20:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6580540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lwielaura/pseuds/lwielaura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Jesus fucking Christ, I thought he was asleep, the door was open, I was tired, I didn’t do it on purpose.”<br/>“You didn’t think, that’s the problem. You know he’s claustrophobic, you read his еба́ть file.“</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bolted and Barred

**Author's Note:**

> i'm fuckng down have fun with my continuing tony feels  
> here's my tumblr where you can prompt me http://allhailtchalla.tumblr.com/

Clint didn’t think twice as he saw the door wide open.  
It was in the middle of the night, basically, and these asshole from SHIELD had given him a very early shift that even Steve wasn’t up yet for his daily and absolutely incomprehensible morning run (seriously, super soldier, what was he even keeping himself fit for?), so why was that door to a random broom cupboard even open?  
His sleep deprived brain couldn’t find an answer, only demanded coffee before it was willing to function, so he shrugged, yawned, closed and locked the door, heading to the kitchen while he silently cursed everyone who could possibly be blamed for that he had to get up in these unholy hours.

Tony froze, shell shocked at once as he heard the door snapping shut behind him, immediately in full panic mode. Probably the wind, he tried to calm himself down, although there was no draught in his hallways, he knew it, he designed the entire fucking tower.  
With more trembling hands than he cared to admit he picked up the box of tools he was looking for (Pepper usually took away his stuff when he misbehaved but her hiding spots were dull and quite easy so it had took him less than ten minutes to find it this time – he really needed to change the override codes for his workshop) and headed for the door, pulling the knob and nothing happened.  
He felt the oxygen leaving his body like someone had punched him right in the stomach, heart racing and his shaking hands developed into a full body tremble promptly.  
“Stay calm” he commanded himself, but his voice was weak and hitched and he felt like he didn’t inhale enough oxygen, vision blurring and his head became light while his body felt much too heavy to move.  
Once again he tried to open the door, certain that he had just made a mistake before, but once again nothing happened and now he couldn’t suppress a small whimper.  
“JARVIS?” he whined but he knew that he never cared to install his AI into his fucking broom chambers because why the fuck would he, usually just the cleaning staff needed them and god dammit.  
He didn’t realize how he had started banging at the door, fully aware of the time and that no one was awake yet and aware of the soundproofed walls but someone had locked him in and maybe they would realize what they did, reconsider their move, recognize their mistake, but nothing happened and he started to shout and scream and bang and tremble and there was just blank panic, he couldn’t be locked in here, it was dark and so small, too small, he could barely move, oh god, there was not enough oxygen so he screamed louder, trying to kick in the door, feeling how his voice got rough and how his throat began to hurt and his hands were probably bleeding already but nothing mattered because he needed. To. Get. Out. Of. Here. Right. Now.  
He felt a sharp pain from somewhere in his body but it couldn’t get through the dizzy haze entirely.  
All that he felt was panic and the horrible sensation to be back again, to be cold and locked and caught and attached to a car battery and dying any second because of the mistakes he had made, all the shit he had done and that was when he blacked out, not even aware of what was happening anymore.

“Someone seen Tony?” Bruce asked as he emerged from the lab around midday, ready for a small snack.  
Steve looked at him confused, putting his book aside and wrinkled his forehead.  
“I thought he was with you downstairs? He didn’t come to bed because he was busy, I thought…”  
“No, he’s not.” Bruce replied uneasy, his face mirroring the concern Steve immediately felt as he sat up a bit.  
“Maybe he’s out.” Natasha shrugged, cutting a slice of her apple with her very unnecessary sharp knife and handing it to Bruce, who munched it thoughtfully.  
“He would’ve told me.” Steve muttered, actually starting to worry about his boyfriend right now. Tony definitely would. He always did, even if he just went for a small trip or half an hour of a business meeting in eighth floor, it was something they always did because they knew about the danger of their lives and they both soon discovered how reassuring it was to know that the other one was ok, knowing when it was time to worry, knowing when the other one would be back, safe and sound.  
In this moment Clint entered the kitchen, the bad mood he was in literally written on his face, heavy eye bags under his eyes and yawning.  
“I fucking hate Fury.” He muttered, taking a Red Bull out of the fridge and pouring it down in one sip.  
“Have you seen Tony?” Steve asked without hesitation.  
“Thanks, Cap, I had the worst day and all you care is about your sweetheart.”  
“Clint, this is serious.” Bruce urged him.  
“I’ll text Pepper.” Natasha announced, her phone already in her hand and typing in the speed of light.  
“Like – shit. What about his workshop?” Clint replied, obviously realizing the seriousness of the situation now.  
“Not there. I thought so but Bruce was downstairs the whole morning. He told me he had a project and worked the night…”  
Suddenly Clint’s face became pale, eyes wide open and lips a bit parted.  
“What?” Steve chocked immediately, horror freezing the blood in his veins.  
“He wasn’t… he was awake tonight? I thought he went to bed with you?”  
“Not to sleep.” Steve answered and in this situation he didn’t even have time to feel awkward about this because something had happened, and he didn’t knew, didn’t –  
“SHIT” Clint exhaled, suddenly jumping on his feet and everyone was staring at him in surprise and as he started to run upstairs, they followed him without thinking about it twice.  
“Clint, what the –“  
“The door was open, I thought…. I closed it.”  
“What are you talking about?” Bruce panted and ran into Steve as they all of a sudden stopped in front of a random and unremarkable door no one had ever noticed before because nothing of relevance was behind that.  
“Shit shit shit fuck shit” Clint continued mumbling, opening the door with the key inside it with unusual trembling hands and Steve still didn’t understand, didn’t understand why his usually so calm and relaxed teammate looked like he had killed someone, but Natasha suddenly gasped, muttering: “Clint, you didn’t.” and why did everyone understand except for –  
Oh. That was before the door opened and the light of the hallway flooded the small chamber.  
And his eyes spotted the small stack in the corner of the room and at first thought it was something, just some old stuff, old clothes, until it moved slowly and he recognized –  
“Tony.” He gasped, hands covering his mouth in terror.  
The light hit his boyfriend’s face and they all gasped simultaneously.  
Tony was pale, white as a ghost and the glance he threw them was glassy and odd, like he didn’t even realize they were standing in front of him.  
There was blood on his hands, cuts and bruises on his knuckles, blood in his hair and on his clothes and Steve risked a quick look at the door, spotting scratch marks and bulges in the heavy wood that was also covered in red.  
“Tony.” Bruce tried again, despite the look on his face full in doctor mode, kneeling in front of his friend while everyone else was still frozen to the core. As he approached him, the man on the floor flinched, automatically raising his hands and blinking confused, like he just had realized the situation around him.  
He looked around irritated, spotted the open door and released a whimper, ignoring them all as he tried to get up, yelping in pain as he used his left foot, trying it again, now leaning against the wall and heaving himself up and Steve’s chest clenched as he saw how hard it was for him to stand straight, wanted to approach him but the still burning panic in these brown eyes held him back.  
“Tony…” he started quietly, a little desperate, but the smaller one finally managed to stand, straightened up, not using the obviously hurt food that stuck out in a quite concerning angle and limped right through them. Natasha made an attempt to block his flight way, but he managed a “Let me” and his voice was so broken and used and small sprinkles of crimson landed on his hand as he coughed so no one dared to hold him back any further as he tumbled through the hallway and vanished in their room.  
“I didn’t mean to, I –“ but Natasha had already grabbed Clint at the collar and punched him against the wall.  
“What the fuck were you thinking?”  
“Jesus fucking Christ, I thought he was asleep, the door was open, I was tired, I didn’t do it on purpose.”  
“You didn’t think, that’s the problem. You know he’s claustrophobic, you read his еба́ть file.“  
“Natasha, it’s not his fault.” Bruce said numbly and Steve managed somehow to nod in his dizziness, still staring at the door Tony had vanished through.  
“Don’t fucking interrupt me. Rogers, Подви́нь жо́пу! Tony needs you and don’t let him tell you to fuck off.” She commanded, voice sharp as a razor and that suddenly brought him back to life and he jumped before he quickly followed his boyfriend’s track, brain and body on autopilot, bringing more and more distance between him and the yelling Natasha.  
He didn’t bother to knock, just basically kicking in the door, regretting this as he saw Tony flinching on their bed, once again in a defensive and protective stance, but as he recognized Steve, he relaxed a bit, lying down again and breathed heavily, eyes shut.  
“Are you all right?” Steve asked dumbly, closing his eyes for a moment because what kind of question was that, but he couldn’t think of something else to say or to do without crossing a line or approaching him, risking to scare him off.  
Tony agreed by laughing without joy, his cracked voice making it sound rough and weird.  
“Can I… touch you?” Steve managed after a while of uncomfortable silence, only disrupted by Tony’s unsteady breaths.  
“I’m not really in the mood, Cap.” He answered hoarse and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Slowly he approached him, hands up to make himself as least threatening as possible.  
“I’m not a scared dog, Steve, it’s all right.”  
He really wanted to disagree, taking the state Tony was in into account, but he just kept his mouth shut, and sat next to him, slowly letting his hand rest on the other man’s shoulder, stopping a brief second as he saw him flinching, but Tony shook his head, relaxing a bit again and then he touched him, warm and steady and safe and all right and somehow that broke Tony because suddenly he was sitting upright, head leaning against his chest and the less injured hand grabbing his shirt and Steve didn’t hesitate before pulling him closer, holding him tight and mumbling soothing words into his curled hair.  
He didn’t know how long they sat there like this, close on close and trying to fix deep wounds no one of them could describe, but by the time they let go of each other his back and neck hurt but it was so worth it as he saw the light returning in these hazel eyes he loved so much.  
“I need to check your hands.” Steve said after a while, his hands still holding onto Tony.  
“Didn’t know you were into playing doctor.” Tony smiled a bit weak but still genuine and more honest and Steve slapped him softly against his shoulder, before grabbing their first aid kid.  
“Is it ok if I call Bruce to fix your foot? It’s probably broken.”  
“Brucie bear is invited to any pity party he wants to attend.” Tony shrugs and Steve understands that this was a trust thing, that he trusted the scientist and he nodded before he asked JARVIS to call him.  
Seconds later it knocked and Bruce entered the room, looking a bit hesitant but as he saw the more relaxed and vivid look on Tony’s face he smiled.  
“I was surprised that you would even allow us to check you for injuries.” He promptly said, carefully taking off Tony’s shoe, earning a pained hiss to which he answered with an apologetic look.  
“Has Natasha stopped shouting?” Steve asked Bruce and Tony looked mildly interested.  
“Not as far as I know. Poor Clint. She can be really terrifying. Don’t tell her I said that, dumping me is probably the nicest thing I could expect.” He answered easily with a concentrated look, obviously trying to lift the mood.  
Tony chuckled, which turned into a yelp as his sock followed his shoe and his swollen ankle came to light.  
“You’re lucky, it’s not broken but sprained. Well, not really lucky, this probably hurts more but it’s also easier to cure. I just need some bandages.”  
“Oh come on, it will be fine, I’m not broken or something.” Tony mourned, wiggling with his toes and pulling a hurt face immediately. The stern glance Steve shot him made him shut up completely.  
“Clint didn’t do it on purpose, you know.” Steve said after a while, watching Bruce wrapping up his boyfriend’s ankle.  
“Well I thought so, because I know he’s a dick but that was a bit too much for a prank.” Tony mutters.  
“Finished. I’m going to make some food, the rest will probably burn down the kitchen if in charge. Join us for dinner in about half an hour, all right?” Bruce announced, about to leave the room.  
“Thank you.” Tony mumbled incoherently, but he gained a soft and fond smile nevertheless.

Twenty minutes later they entered the kitchen, Steve’s arm around Tony’s waist in order to straighten him and all eyes were fixed on them.  
“Tony.” Clint blurred promptly, holding an ice package against his cheek where Natasha had probably slapped him.  
“Shut up, birdbrain. You owe me like a thousand things so first thing: shut up, second: a good bottle of scotch and let’s call it even.”  
Clint stared at him, a bit disbelieving and doubting and looking miserable and Tony sighed: “Natasha hit you, I think this is enough of a punishment.”  
“Damn right.”, Natasha smiled, clapping Clint on his back who winced in pain.  
“So stop looking at me like that or I’ll make it two bottles.”


End file.
